


Three Conversations

by citrinesunset



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Extra Treat, M/M, Post X-Men: First Class, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Repression, Transformation, Trick or Treat 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 21:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Hank was used to closing himself off to avoid vulnerability. After his transformation, he thought he would have no other choice.





	Three Conversations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/gifts).



**I**

In retrospect, it seemed ridiculous that he'd felt so limited by his _feet_. How often had he closed himself off because of something most people never saw? How many opportunities for friendship or love had he passed up because he was self-conscious?

Now, Hank couldn't even leave the mansion grounds. If he could lose himself in his work, he could have dealt with it. He'd coped with being the youngest student in his Harvard classes by committing himself entirely to his studies and waiting for the mythical day when he'd be among peers. That time should have been now, he supposed. That was the whole idea of the school Charles wanted to build--a safe place for mutants to gather and learn together. But the others could go out and mingle with regular people without being noticed. And Hank couldn't focus on his experiments. He couldn't even begin to work on counteracting his transformation. His hands felt foreign and unnaturally large, unsuited to delicate work. He could barely lift a fork or write his name, let alone work with small tools or lab equipment. One of the first times he tried to return to his lab, he accidentally crushed a test tube in his hand. The next thing he knew, he'd overturned a table and smashed a whole shelf of glass beakers.

He barely remembered doing it.

He was in the bathroom, clumsily trying to clean and dress the cut on his hand, when there was a knock on the door.

"Hank?" It was Charles. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Hank said with a growl.

There was a pause. "I can tell you're hurt. Can I come in?"

Hank hesitated, but he let him in. Mostly out of guilt for growling at him a moment ago.

Charles was still getting used to his chair, and he had trouble at first getting through the doorway. But soon enough, he had Hank sitting on the edge of the bathtub while he bandaged his hand for him. Hank growled and bared his fangs when Charles dabbed the cut with rubbing alcohol, but Charles didn't flinch.

"You're still adjusting," Charles said. "You'll learn to control your new form with time."

Hank wondered if Charles really meant that. In any case, he hated letting Charles see him this way. He wasn't the only one adjusting, after all. He wasn't the only one who had to re-learn his own body. Charles should have been able to focus on healing and building his school, not worrying about _him_.

And then there was the effect Charles had on him. His heart beat rapidly from having Charles sitting so close to him, holding his hand. Hank didn't know when it'd started, but he found himself increasingly appreciative of Charles' small, casual touches. Charles' smile. Glimpses of Charles' neck when he left the top buttons of his shirt undone. 

It wasn't the first time Hank had been attracted to a man, and he was used to keeping these thoughts to himself and being realistic in his expectations. He knew, rationally, that even if he hadn't transformed into this creature, Charles was unlikely to give him a second look. But everything was heightened, now. His feelings, his senses. What if he couldn't hide it? And he couldn't bear to think how Charles must see him.

"You know..." Charles said with a soft sigh. "I think you're very hard on yourself. You're a good man. For one thing, if your temper were really as bad as you think it is, you would have strangled Alex and Sean by now. Lord knows they'd given us enough aggravation with their sunrise training exercises. For another, not all of your instincts are _bad _. Strong feelings can be a good thing, sometimes."__

____

____

He looked Hank in the eye, and Hank looked down at his hands. Did Charles know? Had he read his mind?

Charles didn't say anything more, and Hank was relieved when Charles finished his work and let go of his hand.

 

**II**

 

A week after stopping the serum, Charles started getting migraines.

"I forgot what this was like," he said with a grim smile. "Haven't had it this bad since I was fifteen."

Hank handed him a painkiller and glass of water and sat on the edge of the bed. Charles swallowed the pill and handed the glass back to him. The room was already dark, but Charles closed his eyes. The curtains were drawn to keep out the sunlight.

"It'll probably take some time," Hank said.

"The headaches never go away entirely. Side-effect of telepathy, I'm afraid. But it gets manageable. And I suppose you can't protect yourself from the bad without shutting out the good, too." He sighed. "It's relief, honestly. To have my ability back."

Hank set the class of water on the nightstand. "Yeah, I guess you're right." 

He was will taking his serum. But it was funny--ever since he his mutation manifested, he'd thought his life would be easier if he were normal. And at least since his transformation, that was true. He could go to the grocery store now. He didn't have to worry about being seen. But the serum hadn't fixed everything, either. It hadn't made his life all that different. He'd spent a long time telling himself that everything he did was for Charles, or at Charles' behest. But the truth was, he'd made a choice just as much as Charles had to withdraw from the world.

He started to get up. "I'll let you rest."

Charles opened his eyes and grabbed his hand. "Actually, I'd rather you stayed. If you don't mind."

Hank didn't mind at all.

 

**III**

 

Charles would never admit it, but it was clear he liked how Hank's fur felt against his bald head. He'd taken to using Hank's shoulder as a pillow while reading in bed on nights when Hank hadn't taken his serum.

Since rebuilding the school, Hank had been skipping more and more days. He hadn't thought about it much until now.

Hank cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about something."

"Oh?"

"I think I might stay off the serum for a while. I'm stronger in this form. If the school is ever attacked again, we should all be ready. And it might be good for the students to have more teachers with visible mutations. Raven is staying her natural form most of the time, now."

Charles looked up from his book. "That's a very rational argument. But is it what you want? You don't owe anyone anything."

Surprisingly, it was what he wanted. But he felt vaguely guilty, because he hadn't wanted it when it really would have been brave. He wasn't like Raven. It was easier now that mutants walked around openly on the street. It was easier now that his Beast form felt as natural as his human form. That wasn't to say it was perfect, or that he would have chosen it. But it didn't feel like something to fix. He'd gotten used to it without realizing.

But he still remembered what it'd felt like to think he'd never go out in public again. To think he would spend the rest of his life alone. At the time, those fears had seemed real. Now he wondered if he could have made it easier on himself. But regretting that now didn't make any difference. By now, he'd spent most of his adult life living under this roof at Charles' side, and while not all of those years had been perfect, they'd led him to his point. That was worth something, wasn't it?

And he had the school. He'd never imagined there would be so many students. So many young mutants. Many of them were like he had been, shy and uncomfortable with their mutations. And no matter what Charles said, Hank felt a sort of obligation to set a good example. Then there were the lucky students, who saw being a mutant as normal and were excited to learn to use their powers. Hank tried not to envy them.

"It is," he said. "I wouldn't have wanted it twenty years ago, but I do now."

"Hank, none of us were as comfortable twenty years ago. We have a ways to go, but the world is better than it was. You helped get us to this point, so you deserve to enjoy the benefits."

"Haven't done that much...."

"You helped me build this school, and you've put up with me far longer than anyone else would have. I'm lucky to have you, in any form." He said this matter-of-factly before turning his attention back to his book.

That was that, then. Hank picked up his own book and carefully turned the page with one claw-like nail. It was a new physics text he'd been hoping to teach to the older students, but it was proving to be quite dry. He wanted to _encourage_ an interest in science, not drive the poor kids in the opposite direction. Perhaps he should write his own textbook.

He glanced at Charles, intending to suggest the idea, but saw Charles had dozed off with his head still resting against his shoulder. He considered waking him so that he could move into a better position, but then decided to wait a bit. There was something warm and comforting about the weight of Charles resting against him.


End file.
